The Burning World
by HopeIsDelicious
Summary: A Joker origin story. Jack wasn't always the broken clown we all know and love. Someone had to break him first. Slash, One-shot, maybe more chapters in the future. Do not own.


Jack's brow knotted as Leon walked into the kitchen. His mate's steps were slow and uneven and he was muttering to himself. The smaller man felt his stomach clench with dread. Not again.

"Hey honey," he said, a faint quiver in his voice. Jack cleared his throat quickly to dispose of it. Anything could set Leon off whether it be a hitch in his voice or a single twitch in the wrong direction.

Leon looked up rapidly at the sound of his mate's voice and smiled. "Jack, just the gorgeous man I was looking for!" He took another staggering step into the kitchen and frowned ferociously. "Why was I looking for him?" he muttered, hand keeping him steady as he rubbed at his temples.

Jack edged to the opposite side of the kitchen, palming a kitchen knife with a shaky hand as he went. Oh no, please god, not again, please. Today was a bad day for Leon and a bad day was not a good day for anyone. Jack licked his lips and tried for a smile.

"I don't know honey, are you missing anything?"

Leon seemed to ignore him, still muttering angrily to himself as he made his halting way around the counters and towards Jack. Jack gripped the paring knife a little tighter and began to breathe a little faster.

"Oh no, were we missing something? They took it but they couldn't have because he's here. Oh yes, he's always here with that damned and what does it mean? I don't want to do that, we're so mean…no,no,no…I'm the leader…"

Leon was right in front of Jack now, towering over him but keeping his lost gaze pointed out towards the window. Jack tried to ease his frantic breaths. This was his mate, his life-partner, he wouldn't hurt him so there was no reason to panic…none at all. Leon always knew it was him in the end. Maybe he wouldn't even notice him today. Yes, that might be good…

Leon's clear blue eyes suddenly snapped down and pinned Jack's own in a distinctly predatory way.

"Where are my slippers?" he asked intensely, hunching down to get to eye level with his mate.

"Y-Your slippers?" Jack stuttered.

"Help me find my slippers," Leon demanded and Thomas gave a nervous nod.

"Of course, darling," he said, edging away fro Leon's imposing frame. "I'll go look for them right now, hmmm?"

"Thanks, babe," Leon said with a bright smile. Jack carefully hid the paring knife from Leon's view as he forced himself to turn his back and begin to exit the room. He clenched the knife tightly in his left hand held in front of his chest. He couldn't believe it. He was almost free. As soon as he got into the living room he could make a run for it and make it to his panic room where he could hide until his Leon came back. He just had to keep playing his cards right…

"You're sure you'll be able to find them?" Leon suddenly asked worriedly, stopping Jack in his tracks. Jack licked his lips.

"Well they certainly haven't wandered off on their own now, right?" He went for a nervous laugh.

Leon didn't laugh right away. That was a bad sign.

Finally, "That was _funny!_" Leon guffawed. Jack made a break for it. Two strong arms grabbed tight around his middle and spun him around.

"So _glad_ you find this funny, you joker!" Leon grinned far too hard into Jack's face and began to squeeze the smaller man far too hard.

Jack gasped and began to struggle, unwilling, even now to use his weapon on his lover. Leon laughed again and squeezed even tighter. Jack could see the edges of his vision beginning to go black and he reached out desperately to his mate's mind, trying to reach whatever part of Leon's brain that wasn't under the thrall of whatever mental illness was affecting him.

_Leon please, you're hurting me! Leon!_

Leon didn't even hear the screams his little love was projecting into his mind.

"So, _so _funny!" Leon let Jack go, let him crash to the ground and hold together his burning rib cage. Jack scrambled on all four away from Leon, tears coming into his eyes.

_Why, why, why why…_

Leon's head snapped to his retreating mate. "Oh?" he questioned and took a step forwards. Jack jabbed the paring knife out at him.

"Please, please, Leon," he begged, "Please, stay back."

Leon didn't even seem to see the knife. Like a broken doll he dropped to all fours and was on Jack in seconds, one hand casually using a strength far greater than Jack's to wrench the paring knife away. Leon's eyes were huge as he pushed his face into Thomas' terrified one.

"Shouldn't you be laughing too?" he asked, pushing the other man down so he lay prone below him. He ignored his mate's tears, ignored his sobs. Why wasn't his Jack laughing? He was so _funny_ after all. Such a clever mate.

"Come on, Jack," he cooed at the terrified man. "Let's see your _smile_."

"Leon, _please_, no," whimpered Jack.

"It's okay," comforted Leon, as any caring mate should. He suddenly discovered the knife clenched in his hand. He blinked at it in confusion before a light seemed to go off in his mind.

"Here, I'll help you," Leon said and brought the knife down to caress his mate's porcelain face.

"I'll help you smile."

Jack's eyes widened. "No, Leon, wait please-"

His tortured screams were what brought the police fifteen long minutes later. It took four of Gotham's "best" to pry the insane Alpha off his mate and another four to lock him up.

And of those eight men, only one carried an unconscious Jack out to the waiting ambulance. And of the four paramedics on duty, all Alpha males, only one was able to stand the sight of the ruins of Thomas' face long enough to stitch him up.

And of those two who helped him that night, one…well neither of them thought to comfort the shell-shocked submissive.

And of the eight members on the Bonded Council, the council which monitored the well-beings of mated pairs throughout Gotham city, eight voted for Leon to be sent to the best medical institution in the world to undergo psychiatric tests and treatments in an effort to cure his mental illness. And of those eight members, one prescribed counseling to Leon's distraught partner. And then he forgot all about the hollow shell that had once sat before him.

And the one therapist who saw the catatonic Jack for one entire month soon, also, forgot about the beaten submissive, especially after his payments stopped.

And when Jack was fired from his job as a physicist -"Well, you see, Jack, it's the _scars_. They make the others uncomfortabel"- no one thought to help him get another one.

No one thought to test Jack's mind to see if his connection to Leon had changed him. No one thought to help him as the bills stacked up and he was evicted into the Narrows amongst hungry Alphas.

And so Jack had no one there.

And since no one was there, no one saw as he changed. He couldn't stand the touch of the hungry men, couldn't bear to breathe in their stink. So he learned to fight them off. Violently. Sneakily. Without mercy.

No one saw as his mind finally gave under the strain of the broken, poisonous mate connection still present within him. Leon had him blocked but he still transmitted and it…changed Jack.

His eyes, once bright blue with life, became black as night. There was no reason to be alive anymore. Most days he wished that someone would just kill him. So he fought. He cheated. He stole. He teased. He screamed. He goaded.

But no one released(_killed_) him.

He lived on the streets for almost two years. He became known amongst the homeless as one to stay away from. So when a trio of newbies sat in his place in the subways, no one met their eyes. It was no use looking into the eyes of dead men.

And he did come and he did kill for that was all the universe really _allowed_ wasn't it? For death and chaos and _filth_ to reign supreme. His dead eyes fell on the poker cards swimming in the blood of dead men. He leaned down to pick one up.

"Joker," he murmured, stroking over the blood-stained face card almost lovingly. A flash in his mind then of crazy blue eyes laughing like hell into his own. A cracked grin curled across his face.

"Joker…" He muttered.

"I am such a _Joker_!" He screamed. And then his screams turned to laughs and he laughed and laughed and laughed at the fucking _cosmic joke_ that was the universe.

A scuffle from behind caused him to turn sharply and dangerous, predatory eyes gazed into terrified ones.

"Why aren't _you _laughing?"

The homeless fled that night and never returned to the blood soaked room in the slums of Gotham where a madman laughed and laughed and _laughed _at the burning world.


End file.
